


Out Of The Park

by SerratedCucumber



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Headcanon, Lyla's Perspective
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 12:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17283980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerratedCucumber/pseuds/SerratedCucumber
Summary: A story from Lyla's perspective of the events of Life is Strange 2, following the Diaz Brothers' journey from an outside perspective. Will Lyla's temptation to see her best friend grow too strong for her to handle? How will she cope in this brave new world without her best friend by her side? How will she deal with the continuous questioning from the police?





	Out Of The Park

"...Okay... Touché..." Lyla remarked, resting her chin in her cupped hand, scrolling through her Twitter feed. Her attention was diverted right to the corner of her screen, as suddenly, she noticed Sean moving over his laptop. All Lyla could see from his webcam was his loose hoodie, before he took a movement back.

"Hold on, Okay?" Sean uttered, seemingly a little put-off by something that had caught his eye outside the window. "S-something's going on outside." He finished, pushing his computer chair back and stumbling to the door. Lyla protested, telling him to wait, yet Sean burst through the door and turned the corner to his living room area. Lyla sighed. Probably just some trouble outside, or something. She picked up her cosmetics kit, wondering how she should do her makeup tonight to impress whoever she'd wind up hanging out with. She'd be a little lonely once Sean hooked up with Jenn, she thought to herself, so she'd better try and find some other company so she didn't look like a complete and utter loser.

Lyla finally settled on a smoky look, and, pulling out her moderately dirty brushes, she waited for Sean to come back. She'd done her makeup in front of him a lot, and this situation was nothing new. She actually found that she liked having a boy to watch her put on makeup, somebody who wouldn't judge her for the slight flecks of eyeliner that were uneven. Sadly, as the months had gone by with this tradition, Sean began to notice Lyla's makeup inconsistensies, and told her that she should "Tidy up the eyebrow on that side, it's coming down too much", or to "Blend your base better, dude". She laughed, yet her frustration began to grow at the whereabouts of her companion. Looking at the call timer, she had guessed Sean had been gone for about ten minutes. She sighed to herself, stretching out and cracking her knuckles.

She knew exactly what had happened. Esteban was talking to some old friend Sean hadn't seen in years, and now they were sitting on the sofa and playing catchup. "Well done, Sean. Just forget about old Lyla!" she said aloud, hoping that he would hear her from the next room and rush in to talk to her. Nothing. She heard distant walking through the house, but far away. Going past Sean's room. Daniel, she assumed. She waited on, until she heard a huge bang from Sean's end. "Damn," she thought to herself. "Has the fence fallen down again?" It was at this time that she began texting Sean, a series of playful messages, asking him to come back. He would, if he had his phone on him. Or he'd at least tell her that he was busy, and that he'd come back on the call later. She began applying her base of moisturiser and foundation, looking hot because of makeup was Lyla's speciality, and after the multiple failed attempts, she could get herself looking good for the evening. Increasingly annoyed with Sean for ditching her, she sent more and more messages to him.

As she began to apply her eye shadow, one of the final parts of her look, she heard a shout from downstairs.

"Lyla! Come here! Now!". Her dad. A million and one thoughts ran through her head. Had he found her stash under the leg of the armchair? Had her grade report came in the mail? She knew that he only used that tone when something serious was going on, so she bounded down the stairs, her makeup not yet done, she looked rather like a goth, since it wasn't blended, but she entered her living room through the old squeaky door regardless.

"Huh? What's the word?" She asked her dad, who was sat with his Friday afternoon whiskey and old music playing, he dropped his whiskey onto the coaster, and looked up to his daughter.

"Lyla, Marianne just called me. Said there's police cars all up and down Lewis Avenue. Do you know what happened? She's worried sick." He asked her.

"Lewis Avenue? N-no... I haven't heard anything." She stuttered, the worst things immediately entering her mind.

"You might want to text Sean, and see if he knows what's going on. Marianne only lives about twenty houses from him or so. See if he knows, yes?"

Lyla shook her head in dumbfoundedness. "Y-yeah, sure pops. I'm on it." And with that, she ascended up the stairs again, texting Sean more and more, inquiring about the police cars. Her lunch was materialising into a swarm of butterflies in her belly, devouring her insides, and her mind. Her only focus was on Sean and whether he was okay. What if he'd been burgled? Stabbed? Worse? As time went on, Lyla heard more sirens go past her window on the opposite street. As she stared out of her back window over to Lewis Avenue, she noticed that police were cordoning off the area, refusing to let people in. Shit, Lyla thought to herself, Lock-down. Before she knew it, her Dad called her down the stairs again, and she propelled herself through into the living room staring at the TV which caught her eye. As her dad turned it up, she heard the blaring voice of the news reporter.

"...Scene of the crime. One person is thought to be recovering in critical condition, while the whereabouts of the two brothers are unknown. Investigation is currently underway on the scene, looking to uncover the details of the crime by identifying early evidence. Pronounced dead on the scene, the man who was shot, with a bullet to the chest, and the officer, who has died to unknown causes. A gunshot victim, evidently some form of bullet wound, pertaining to whom authorities are associating with the name "Esteban Diaz", age forty five. Diaz's two sons are nowhere to be seen as the police have announced they are treating them as suspects. An area-wide search for the man's two sons has already begun, and the area is expected to be cordoned off until tomorrow at the earliest."

"What the... fuck?" Lyla gasped, as the news story changed to another. Had Esteban shot somebody? Lyla's dad was just as dumbfounded and shocked as her, as he didn't even scold his daughter for swearing, simply staring confusedly at the TV.

"Lyla, you know anything about this? Did Sean get back to you?" Her dad asked, staring at her, almost accusingly.

"D-... No. No, I have no idea what the hell is going on." Lyla panted. Her vision was a blur, and before she know it, she was sprinting, barefoot up to Lewis Avenue, her phone in her hand, running up to the line of police cars that blocked off the road. Her feet scraped across bare rocks and dried chunks of gum, as she pounded her way towards a police officer, who stood, talking with a colleague. As Lyla tried to sprint past him, he held out a muscular arm, holding her tight, and giving her a gentle shove backwards.

"Just who do you think you are, ma'am? This is the scene of a crime, and you're not to be entering without official clearance. You understand me? Who are you?" He barked at her, clearly angry at her desperation to see Sean.

"I'm- I know somebody who lives here. I need to see him, please. I need to know he's okay." Lyla cried out, tears rolling down her cheeks and staining her face in black eyeshadow. She attempted to move forward again, and the police officer put a firm hand on Lyla's shoulder, stopping her from moving.

"Now you listen, ma'am. I've told you, nicely! You either have clearance from my boss, or you're not getting into this area. I'm sure your friend is fine." He snapped again, trying to move her backwards with a bit of force.

"N-no. Sean Diaz! Diaz! Esteban Diaz! That's his dad! What happened?!" Lyla shrieked, trying with all of her might to force the officer off her and move past him. She didn't have concern for the law being in her way, she just wanted to see Sean's smile, and know that he'd be okay.

"Esteban Diaz died from a gunshot wound thirty minutes ago after a fight broke out at his home address. That's all I can tell you. There is also a dead officer at the scene." The officer sighed aloud, trying to pacify Lyla and struggling against her clawing.

"N-no! What the, the fuck," Lyla stuttered, gasping for air and slowly flailing in the officer's grasp. "Where are his sons? P-please..."

"Both boys are unaccounted for. I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I'm going to need to take your name, and phone number if you're linked to the crime in any way."

Lyla shook her head in defeat and shock. "I- linked? Crime? I'm not linked to any sort of crime, and neither are any of them!" She yelled, pointing over the Officer's shoulder to Sean's house.

"Miss, if I can just get your name, address, and phone number. That's all I need from you." He stared at her coldly, his countenance displaying no trace of emotion, no sympathy for Lyla.

"Fine. Lyla Park. 24 Westford Road, 569-5829. Anything else?" She asked, watching him scribble down notes intently in his torn pad.

"That'll be all, Ma'am. Do not leave the state or the country until we call you. I'm going to have to ask you to leave the area now, but we'll be in touch later on in the evening once we know what we need from you. Okay?"

Lyla reluctantly turned, the tears rolling down her cheeks and onto her sweater. She didn't even bother answering the officer as she trudged home, her feet bleeding from running across the street barefoot. She didn't care. Flipping open her phone, she texted Sean a few final times, in the hopes that he'd answer. It wasn't even an hour ago that she had hugged him. Where the hell could he be, and why had all of this happened? She refused to associate her best friend with criminality, or even the thought of murder. And... Esteban. The man who had known her when she was younger, who always cared so much for her and Sean, who threw the best barbecues, dead. Gone. Stagnant. There was no way she could process this. In an hour, the world had come crumbling down around her, and she couldn't possibly pick up the pieces. There was nothing she could do but text and call Sean frantically and wait. What on earth would she tell the police? Utterly terrified of saying something wrong, she considered lying to the police, telling them that she didn't know Sean. But the damage had been done, she'd said it. The world around her didn't make sense, and she wasn't with it. She was off in her own reality of sick imagination, about what had happened.

The last thing she remembered was closing her bedroom door, resting her head on her pillow, and fading off into a daytime of fever-like dreams. They clung to her like bugs, infesting the four courners of her mind, and making her ill to the core. Sean... Where the hell could he be?

What on earth was going to happen when she woke up?


End file.
